


Blindly Observant

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 15 Inspired [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Castiel (Supernatural), Angry Castiel/Dean Winchester, Angst, Angst and Humor, Cheeky Belphegor, Coda, Conniving Belphegor, Demon Jack Kline, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Doubt, End of the World, Episode: s15e01 Back and to the Future, Existential Crisis, False Innocence, Grief/Mourning, M/M, References to Canon, Season/Series 15, Self-Doubting Dean Winchester, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Unable to do much of anything until Rowena finds them, the boys are forced to wait out the storm at the high school. Along with their new... 'friend'.Belphegor gets bored easily, though. Will the boys be able to entertain him? Or is there more to this babysitting duty?





	Blindly Observant

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> Sorry for the delay - so many things piled up like work and sickness and errands. The pity of being an adult.
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy this!!

Belphegor frowns as wind slips between his sunglasses and the gaping holes burned into his vessel’s face. He tugs the glasses off and frowns into the side mirror, gazing into the ashy blackness marking the boy’s visage. Filling in the spaces with his imagination, Belphegor guesses as to what he would look like without the wounds. Different colors filter through all types of eyes as nothing seems to match up perfectly, to make his new body look as good as everyone else on the damn planet he’s seen so far.

The sunglasses help bridge the gap.

He puts them back on and surveys the parking lot, making sure no one saw him. Under a dark, starless sky like this, with words like ‘contamination’ and ‘quarantine’ buzzing through the air, means no worry for a regular passerby to spot what doesn’t belong. Too busy locking themselves away in '_safety_'. However an outlier can easily find another outlier.

Castiel stands under a tree, staring at the high school. Belphegor strolls over to him, announcing his presence to the angel by stepping on fallen leaves. He delights in how stiff the angel looks, shoulders tensing with every  _ crunch _ until Belphegor finally stops inches from him and Castiel’s neck disappeared. “Beautiful night for the end of the world, innit?”

Nothing.

Belphegor sighs, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Y’know, it’s not fair… you taking all this frustration out on me. I’ve been topside less than a day, managed to put a bandaid over your stab wound… I didn’t take a crap on your life I just wasn’t lookin’ where I was going.”

Angel gives him a look of contempt filled with so much anger Belphegor prepares for a grand smiting. When he realizes his essence won’t turn to ash he plasters on the easy grin he wore before.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this a million times already,” Belphegor shrugs, rounding Castiel. Angel’s gaze follows him, the blue tracking him like a predator stalking his prey, the glow otherworldly. “Everyone hurts you and the pain won’t let up, so you twist open the spout and pour it onto the easiest target -”

“Enough.”

“If that target weren’t  _ me _ I’d actually be pretty impressed,” he says. Belphegor knows he’s dipping his fingers too close over the fence at the zoo, Castiel wound so tight he could snap his jaws at any moment. Still… “If you want to ditch the wings and halo, join me on the rack after this is all over…”

He chokes on the offer, Castiel slamming him into the tree. His fingers squeeze Belphegor’s neck as skin bubbles under the intense power. “Do  _ not _ compare yourself to me,” he growls.

“You… you need -”

“The ghosts are contained and we know the spell… we  _ hardly _ need your services any longer.”

Belphegor scrabbles against Castiel’s iron grip. With each second that passes he feels his time running out. Quickly searching for an escape, Belphegor latches onto a memory and uses it like a knife. Flinging his head to the side with enough force he knocks the sunglasses off his head. Then with all he has left he meekly wheezes, “ _ Dad _ …”

The hand tears itself away and Belphegor gasps for breath. Recovering, he glances at Castiel. Belphegor attacker recoiled, power cutting off and leaving his eyes glassy and lifeless on his pale face. Stumbling on wobbly legs, he gives Belphegor a wide berth.

Huffing, Belphegor snatches his sunglasses. “That was a close one,” he grumbles, “next time  _ tell _ me when I cross a line…”

“How did… Why did you call me that?”

Belphegor wishes he could roll his eyes. Instead he injects enough sass into shoving his sunglasses on as he says, “Because that’s who I’m squatting in, right? Your kid? Figured it’d shock you or  _ something _ .”

“But how did you  _ know _ ?”

“That he’s your  _ son _ ?” Castiel flinches, drawing further interest from Belphegor. “Because Dean told me…” Casually he floats closer to the angel, like the earlier scene hadn’t happened. Studying how Castiel’s frown deepened at the mention of the elder Winchester’s name. “Dean,” he continues, “Y’know… the guy who’s doing to  _ you _ what you’re tryna do to  _ me _ .”

Castiel turns from him, a hand creeping up to his temple. “You don’t know what you’re talking about -”

“I know enough,” Belphegor says, circling him, “don’t think you aren’t included in the Winchester Weekly that gets around Hell… the Winchester’s personal angel who became too close to his charges…  _ flirted _ with  _ humanity _ more than the upstairs would’ve liked. Killed more angels than even the strongest demon…” He chuckles, wagging his finger at Castiel. “Although I’ll have to give the editor a piece of my mind when I see ‘em. How they missed  _ yours _ and  _ his kid _ I mean…” Belphegor mimics a bomb dropping, Castiel glowering at his impression. “Big news.”

“He wasn’t  _ ours _ ,” Castiel tells him, “not in… not in that sense.”

Belphegor skews his head to the side, “Now that’s funny… from what the big guy said I could’ve sworn he meant…” Crossing his arms, he paces over towards the tree. “When you left in a huff… and he said  _ Jack _ was ‘ _ our kid’ _ it’s… let’s say there’s not much room for interpretation other than, well…”

Castiel’s jaw clenches during his explanation, fists shaking at his sides. “I’m sorry to shatter the illusion but… Jack wasn’t ‘ _ ours _ ’ in the capacity you’re thinking. Yes while we shared him it was… it was a three-person job, being a father to Jack. Me, Dean and… and  _ Sam _ .”

“Now that you mention it, it makes sense,” Belphegor says, “Sam’s a little shaken up having me up and about… and you - you’re acting  _ exactly _ how I’d expect  _ any _ grieving parent would act if they watched the kid who died right in front of ‘em get driven around by some  _ amazing _ demon. Dean though… he’s been a  _ rock _ .”

“Of course…” Castiel shuffles in place, awkwardly avoiding Belphegor’s gaze once more. “Dean is good at… ‘ _ stowing _ ’ his ‘ _ crap _ ’ to get the job done.”

“Is he though?”

Startled, he glances up at him. Belphegor smiles with innocent dimples, amused. “What do you mean?”

“Things could’ve been a whole lot smoother between you two today,” Belphegor says, “Looked like there wasn’t any love loss between you guys. Or… some love  _ was _ loss?”

“Stop speaking about things you  _ clearly _ don’t have any idea about.”

“Oh buddy, I have - like -  _ all  _ the ideas,” he smirks, “two men as handsome as you are… gives a demon like me  _ so many  _ things to  _ think _ about.” Castiel advances, one foot too close for Belphegor’s liking. Especially with the light show returning. He holds his hands up, backing into the rough bark of the tree. “But I can also read people… spend a thousand years in Hell and you learn a thing or two. Over a millennia you can understand when a single action has more words than a novel. From what I can tell there’s an epic tragedy being written whenever one of you so much as  _ glances _ at the other. And those never end well...”

Castiel sighs, halting in his advance. “I hate that I find myself  _ wishing _ Jack’s mouth was burned out his skull instead of his eyes…”

“And I wish I didn’t waste my time alive worshiping a useless dick but we don’t always get what we want,” Belphegor says, “We all have regrets… it’s what makes my job so easy down there in Hell. Pick the right one and even the brightest soul can tumble into darkness like a Jenga tower. Although why am I telling you this… you saw Dean in his  _ prime _ .”

Angel doesn’t like this, and resumes his war march towards Belphegor. He braces for the grace about to slam into him, sure that no underhanded trick would work.

Luckily salvation comes in an unlikely, tall, shadowy figure.

Sam clears his throat. Castiel’s fingers freeze inches from his face. Belphegor sags against the tree as he sees Sam’s silhouette stalking over. “Sam! Am I glad to see you!”

Ignoring him, Sam addresses the angel. “Why don’t you go inside and mingle, calm some nerves,” he says, “I need some  _ alone _ time now.”

Castiel nods, hand falling limp at his sides. “Very well.” He glowers briefly at Belphegor and then switches over to a more neutral expression. Clearly returning to the status quo of ignoring his existence. Which Belphegor will allow until the act bores him again.

For now he has something even shinier to play with.

“Sam Winchester, Sammy…  _ My liege _ ,” he bows with enough force the sunglasses dangle at the tip of his nose until he unbends. As he straightens his spine Belphegor sees the corners of Sam’s mouth tick downwards. “Not a fan of that last one?”

“Could you please stop antagonizing Cas,” Sam huffs, “he’s had a rough day already…”

“Haven’t we all.” Belphegor scoffs, “Listen, it’s in my nature to sniff out when someone’s wounded and toss a little salt in it.”

“Then fight  _ against _ it,” Sam tells him, “Or I won’t have any problem letting Castiel give into  _ his _ nature.”

“Duly noted.”

Sam dawdles, not running after lecturing Belphegor on angel handling like he expects. Belphegor pounces on the mistake, sidling up to Sam’s side.

“He seems a bit more dour, though, than either you or your  _ brother _ ,” Belphegor continues, “Like there’s something about  _ me _ \-  _ more _ than the fact that I’m a demon - that he can’t stand… guess I wanted to find out what it was. See if I could do some damage control, a little PR - especially since we’ll be working together.”

Deflecting works, Sam relaxing enough to continue their conversation. “It’s not  _ you _ he’s angry with, it’s the body you’re…  _ using _ .”

“I kinda got that back in the  _ raveyard _ we dropped hours ago.”

Sam frowns, Belphegor watching the wheels turn in his lusciously blanketed head. Debating whether or not he should tell him what he already knows. Belphegor waits for Sam to decide, hoping he looks bored enough not to draw suspicion. It must work since Sam checks behind him to see if Castiel had truly fled. “You’re walking around in a boy named Jack and he… he was our  _ son _ … Castiel’s, Dean’s and… and  _ mine _ .”

Belphegor nods, crowing with faux understanding so condescending he’s surprised Sam doesn’t catch on to his act. Grief is a wonderful blinder. “That explains a lot… well, not a lot but some…”

“What -”

“You, you’re acting weird around me,” Belphegor waves flippantly, “tiptoeing or whatever… and Castiel - as we saw - is really  _ teetering _ on the edge. Dean, though… you sure Jack wasn’t just yours and the angel’s?”

“Dean, he -” Sam stumbles over his words, “Dean  _ cared _ about Jack.”

“Funny way of showing it,” Belphegor shrugs, “I should be glad, though. To have  _ one of you _ be able to look me in the - well… can’t say that, can I?”

“Dean’s bothered!” Sam says, bottom row of teeth on full display as he snarls, “He’s not letting it show, is all. It’s this thing he does… by the time this whole mess is cleaned up, though, you won’t be around to see him… fall apart.” He quiets, drawing into himself as he thinks about what he said. Imagines the pieces of his brother showering down around them and being forced to pick up the pieces on his own. What he doesn’t know is Belphegor joined him in this mental journey.

And the sight is too sad, even for him.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Belphegor says, “from what I’ve seen your brother has no problem showing when something’s bothering him.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “His natural state is  _ gruff _ .”

“Even to his friends?” he asks, “Because I gotta say Castiel didn’t deserve the brush off your brother gave him.”

Tensing, Sam shuffles around to hide part of his face from Belphegor. When he glances at the demon, Belphegor can see the wariness hiding there. Of course the kindness wouldn’t be taken so easily from  _ him _ . “Surprised you’re sticking up for Cas.”

“Hey the angel might hate my guts but even  _ I _ know how to treat someone decently.”

Sam breathes a humorless laugh through his nose. “Things aren’t the greatest right now -”

“Understatement of the  _ century… _ ”

“Between  _ them _ . Before the end of the world they were… things were said, people got hurt and… Dean’s really mad at him,” Sam admits, “Madder than he’s  _ ever _ been at him.”

Belphegor nods. “No foolin’?”

Sam pauses, shaking his head. As if he remembered where he was and who he spoke to. His lips seal tight, and he drags a hand across them to make sure it won’t open. Belphegor sighs, not happy with the development.

He’ll have to work for his fun now, which -  _ ugh _ .

“It does suck though,” Belphegor says, “going through the end of the world, the death of a child,  _ and _ a  _ divorce _ at the same time… speaks more to the two of them that they can save a town with all this trauma piling up in their wake.”

The younger Winchester’s eyebrows jump from his head. “Divorce?” he squawks. Belphegor hides his smile, the word bringing about the expected response. “It’s a… it’s a rough patch, sure, but -”

“Hey I might not look like your kid but you don’t have to go easy on me,” Belphegor says, “I’m a  _ big boy _ . Wouldn’t mind if Dean split from that angel… means he’ll need a nice shoulder to cry on now that Castiel isn’t perched on _his_ anymore.”

Sam splutters. “Dean… you want…  _ Dean _ ?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “you might’ve been the meat suit Lucifer wanted but any demon in their right mind knew Dean was the Winchester brother you wanted to…  _ stick it in _ .” The disgust painting every crease in Sam’s face brings him joy. “Ruthless, cunning, could cut a body down so easily… actually, I saw a spark of the old Dean today, really…”

“You’re seeing things… so many things…  _ wrong _ things,” Sam tells him, “Dean would  _ never _ go for you -”

“I can find another guy.”

“You’d still be a  _ demon _ .”

“So you’re the only one into demons?” Sam mimics Castiel’s fierce glare, except Belphegor knows there won’t be any lightshow. Still he doesn’t care for how his fingers twitch to where he holstered his firearm. Belphegor continues, shrugging. “Sad, but I'm glad to know  _ that’s _ the only thing keeping us apart. I’m pretty partial to  _ men’s _ bodies… last time I took over a girl she was on the rag and that was  _ not pleasant _ . I thought  _ I _ knew torture…”

“Dean,” Sam coughs, “Dean isn’t into guys either.”

“ _ No! _ ” Belphegor gasps, “Not into demons, not into angels, not into men…”

“I never said he wasn’t into angels.”

“So he and Cas did have a thing?”

“Dean and Cas were  _ never _ a thing!” Sam says, barely any heat in his defense. Belphegor spots how the argument strains to hold any water, leaks abounding with the pressure he applies against it. A few more strikes and the doubt will douse any steadfast assurance Sam has that he knows his brother.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Belphegor says, lounging against the tree with his arms above his head. “Those two don’t look at each other like friend’s do. When Castiel left with you on your little adventure, Dean watched him go with this sad look in his eye… tried to make him feel better by helping him cruise, get on the rebound. All he seemed interested in was window shopping… And Castiel? I’ve never seen a heart shatter in someone’s eyes, it was fascinating. But you said they were  _ never _ a thing so maybe I’m reading too much into their problems… Maybe it all stems from the fact that they never  _ banged _ when they should’ve! Although it might be too late, now…”

“Whatever you’re trying to do,” Sam growls, squinting at him, “it’s not going to work.”

“Oh?”

“Dean and Cas  _ will _ get through this,” he continues, “no matter how many times we have to go through this, we pick ourselves up and keep going. They’re stubborn, but when our backs are against the wall they figure how to get their heads out of their asses and make up. Those two… they have something special that nothing can break apart. Not even each other.”

Belphegor hums. “So you think there’s still a chance for them to bone?”

Sam punches the tree close enough to Belphegor’s head the wind whacks him in the face. “Y’know,” he says, tone pointed and lethal like a sharp blade, “I  _ meant _ it when I said I wanted to be alone right now.”

Nodding, Belphegor dips away from the tree and strategically retreats towards the high school, not bothering to check behind him. The younger Winchester doesn’t matter anymore since he shook all he needed from his branches.

Castiel…  _ check _ . Sam…  _ check _ . Dean…

It’s not hard finding the elder Winchester.

Angel sits, surrounded by a group of children as he reads from some janky children’s book that needs serious repair. The kids don’t mind, listening with rapt interest as Castiel lulls them into comfort with his soothing voice. It brings peace to even the most ferocious of creatures, hiding, watching storytime from a safe distance.

Belphegor sneaks upon Dean easily, leaning close to his ear and whispers. “He puts on a good show right?”

Dean whirls, pressing him against the gym wall without a sound. Unlike all the other times Belphegor’s lips curl into a grin as he soaks up the closeness. “If you wanted to get frisky I’m sure there’s a janitor’s closet around here somewhere…”

Disgust flits across Dean’s features only for his face to shut down into smooth marble. He drops his hand, tucking both of them under his arms. “What’re you doing here?”

“Things got a little too boring outside,” Belphegor shrugs, “Figured I’d spend some time with my favorite Winchester.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t got no time for fanboys.”

“Oh?” Belphegor says, “Spying on angels takes up  _ that much  _ of your day?” Pushing onto his toes, he looks beyond Dean so he can see Castiel again. “I can understand though. It’s real cute… all’s’it’s missing are some fluffy clouds and -  _ ggk _ !”

He drags Belphegor from the gym and over to the nearby exit, throwing him into the empty hallway with enough force he trips over his feet. If not for his quick reflexes he would’ve sprawled across the floor at Dean’s mercy. And it’s too early in their game for that.

“What do you want?”

Belphegor brushes himself off, the cocky tilt of his brow undamaged by the toss. “I want many things, Dean… the better question is are you willing to give them to a poor ol’ demon like myself?”

“I’m willing to do a  _ lot _ to you,” Dean says, “Like sending you back to where you came of you freaky son of a -”

“Now is that any way to speak to your kid?” Belphegor jokes, regretting it as a shadow darkens the other man’s face. “Hey,” he says, hands blocking him from getting any closer, “c’mon, I was kidding…  _ kidding _ !”

Dean sags, tension smoking away from his body. “Making me regret ever telling you that piece of info…”

“Information is power,” he shrugs, “works better than any blade, hook, or claw… you know that, though. From working  _ down there _ .” The elder Winchester squirms at the reminder, Belphegor’s essence crackling at the display of  _ weakness _ . “Learning secrets about the souls we’d put on the rack and using them the next day - incorporating them into our torture to squeeze out the most terror from their pathetic, whiny -”

“Why’re you still here?” Dean asks. “You could’ve smoked away after we set up the salt circle… why stay?”

“Because I like to see things through?” The cellophane answer tears easily in Dean’s grip, forcing Belphegor to show more of his hand than he likes. “Honestly? It’s not everyday a demon spends more than a few minutes in the company of a Winchester without being sent to the only place worse than Hell. Wanted to see how long I could ride this out… learn more about you guys that the newspapers get wrong.”

“Figures,” Dean mutters, “no matter where we go we’re nothing but characters in some twisted story…”

“Hey, hey, hey… that’s not a bad thing.”

“Really? Cause all it’s brought me was a lifetime of misery, pain, and  _ death _ ,” he growls, “don’t see how there’s a bright side to that.”

Belphegor steps away, thinking. “True… those are some hard things to spin positively.”

Dean snorts.

“But it’s not like you were alone in all of it, right?” he continues, “You had your brother… a son -  _ briefly _ … friends… an angel -” Seizing, Dean turns to face the gym door. His knotted back on full show for Belphegor. “Sore spot, huh?” Belphegor winces, “Yeah… probably is. What’s with how y’all’re acting earlier…”

“Could you can it with the routine?” Dean asks, voice heavy like his shoulders with the exhaustion he can no longer ignore. “Don’t know why you’re even trying this with me. Figured you’d head down to all your little buddies and tell them how you twisted my nipples or whatever? Take your  _ sympathy _ and  _ can it _ .”

Belphegor freezes, tail caught dangling from his mouth. Luckily Dean keeps his face focused on the door, allowing Belphegor the time to slurp the tail up with the elder Winchester none the wiser.

“I should have known better,” he starts, slowly circling Dean, “of course you’d see me a mile away… can’t fool a master.”

“ _ Zip it. _ ”

“I guess I can’t go back and brag about being the nail in the coffin of yours and the angel’s bond,” he chuckles wryly, “it’s too strong to break apart… even if you two are fighting.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean tells him, “I don’t think there’s enough glue to put back the billions of pieces of shrapnel that we exploded into.”

“You will,” Belphegor encourages, “I mean, you two are  _ Dean _ and  _ Castiel _ . Everyone knows about you two. The triumphs, the fallouts… the ‘I raised you from perdition’ and the ‘I need you’... we don’t have much for entertainment in Hell, so we get it where we can. You two’re like Romeo and Juliet… Achilles and Patroclus… Harry  _ and _ Sally…” Belphegor pokes Dean’s ribs, “C’mon, I know you can fake an orgasm with the best of them. These halls  _ echo _ .”

Dean barely responded, which Belphegor took as a sign he followed the perfect path. His gaze fogged up, as if he saw beyond the door and into both the past and future. Connecting strings Belphegor helpfully supplied.

“We might not be your biggest fans but we root for you from time to time,” he says, walking away, “how can we  _ not _ . You’re both so  _ compelling _ …”

Belphegor rounds the corner, leaving Dean to wallow in the mess he created.

He dawdles in the hallway, flicking locker handles to see which ones are open. Swapping books when they are, stealing hidden money and drawing obscene hieroglyphs on whiteboards or mutilating personal collages. Belphegor breathes deeply after adding a girthy cock to a football player’s victory photo, relishing in the paranoia and depression clouding the air. Sifts through the layers of nobodies until he finds the pearls he created with the right amounts of pressure.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean Winchester cut Hell at the knees. Toppled his proud kingdom and turned it into a ruinous cavern. Without a king, the screams of pain felt more hollow than they ever were.

So Belphegor will do the same. When he’s done with them, ripped the pearls of their souls out, they’ll be nothing but shells of their former selves, too.

“While I’ll be sitting on the throne,” Belphegor says, using a red Expo marker to draw x’s over the football player’s teammates’ eyes. “Wearing the crown... “

The night lasts long, Belphegor cherishing each miserable second.

**Author's Note:**

> Did ya like it? I hope you did - let me know by dropping a kudos and a comment down below!


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